


Dissents Speak

by TriplePirouette



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anti-Donald Trump, F/M, Gen, Protests, Steve Punches Nazis, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26679493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriplePirouette/pseuds/TriplePirouette
Summary: Modern AU, set in 2020. Steve finds out the GOP is using his likeness for political ads without his permission. Tony tries to keep him from punching the entire Republican party, Peter helps with social media, and Steve helps aPepper sprayed Peggy at a protest in the ultimate 2020 meet-cute.Listed as a WIP ONLY because I may add on at some point. As Ask Box Fic it's technically "finished."**As of 11/8/20 I'm unlikely to continue updating and I have marked this as finished. Thank you so much for all the support for this fic.
Relationships: Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark
Comments: 43
Kudos: 162





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nothingeverlost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingeverlost/gifts).



> Title is taken from a RBG quote: "Dissents speak to a future age. It's not simply to say, 'My colleagues are wrong and I would do it this way.' But the greatest dissents do become court opinions and gradually over time their views become the dominant view. So that's the dissenter's hope: that they are writing not for today, but for tomorrow."
> 
> Tumblr promt: nothingeverlost- Steve finds out the GOP is using his image in a commercial or on a poster.
> 
> Let’s just say this is very ANTI the current American administration. I wasn’t sure how to tag or not tag that, so please just skip over (and fucking unfollow me) if you agree with what’s going on the Republican Party at the moment. 
> 
> And if you’re America, PLEASE VOTE. So much depends on it.

Tony and Pepper were curled up on the couch when the commercial came on. Tony snarled, not wanting to sit through another piece of propaganda, when a familiar face came across his screen. He sat up tall, Pepper sitting next to him, jaw on the floor. 

On the screen was Steve, resplendent in his red, white, and blue uniform, directing officers during the battle of New York, while a voice over it called for reform, and a return to the “values” that made America great. It ended with a scene from one of the 1940′s USO propaganda films with Steve and the Commandos, with the call to Make American Great Again. 

“Oh my god,” Pepper muttered as the commercial changed. “Do you think he knows?”

“I-” Before Tony could finish they heard a reverberating crash coming from the floor above them. “He knows.”

They both stood, rushing to the common room where they found Steve, crossing the room in an undershirt, sweatpants, flip flops, and his shield, looking for all the world like he planned on walking to DC. 

“Steve, buddy…”

He didn’t even stop. “No, Tony.”

Tony stepped in front of him. “We can fix this.”

Steve fumed, his words coming out harsh. “I thought I had. There was a whole war to stop this. To stop hate and fascism and racism and camps and I wake up how many damn years later to find out it meant nothing?” He shook his head. “How can they just… without me knowing… and that…” He swung his left hand, punching through the wall to his side. 

“Good thing you’re not a lefty,” Tony muttered. “Look, we start with an injunction. Get them to stop airing the commercial. Pepper’s already getting the lawyers on it…”

Steve pushed past him, towards the elevators. “These people don’t respond to that.”

Tony shuffled sideways to follow him. “And we get you online, right now, right this minute. We can have you posted to every social media website simultaneously saying you are not a part of their campaign.”

Steve hit the button for the elevator. When it didn’t come immediately he hit it five more times. “Fake news, you know. My own declaration will be called fake news.”

“And what’s your plan, huh? You gonna go talk some sense into them?”

The doors opened and Steve stepped into the elevator. “No. I’m going to punch them.”

“Punch them? Congressmen? The whole GOP?”

Steve’s face was grim as the doors closed. “Nazis, Tony. You punch Nazis.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter brought to you by the comment: 1000% support steve and his decision but please go put on better shoes. -Tumblr's captainpeggycarterismysexuality

Tony throws his arm out and stops the doors from closing, slipping into the elevator at Steve’s frustrated look. “I’m just trying to help you out here. Can you at least stop and put on some sensible shoes?”

Steve doesn’t even look away from the display where the numbers are changing as the elevator descends. “Can’t. No time. Nazis to punch.”

Tony shrugs, nodding along. He actually can’t say that he finds Steve’s motivation or plan of action wrong at all. “Well, yeah, there’s that. But those are my flip flops.”

“First shoes I saw.” Steve’s foot is tapping impatiently, the flip flop making a popping noise on the metal floor. “You shouldn’t leave them lying around.”

“Point taken.” He looks down at them then up again. “I guess they’re as good as anything… they’re Gucci.”

The elevator dings and the doors open, Pepper is standing in the lobby on the phone, eyes wide as she sees them. She holds a hand out. “No, I want an injunction in the next hour, I don’t care who you have to wake up.”

Tony stops Steve with a hand on his shoulder. “You’re not really going to walk to…”

“Fifty-first street.” Steve clenches his jaw. “There’s a GOP headquarters on 51st.” He sighs. “I trust you can have a camera crew there by the time I make it, right?”

“Well yeah, buddy but…”

“Little less impactful if I stop to get dressed, isn’t it?”

Pepper steps between them. “They’ll have the injunction and cease and desist delivered within the hour to the headquarters in DC.” She sighs, heavy. “We can put out an official statement or set up an interview on the news tonight.”

Tony pulled out his phone. “I have a better idea. ‘Cap is on his way to the GOP headquarters in NYC right now to let them know what he thinks about fascists that use his image without his permission. Bring your masks and let them know who you support.’ And send… thank you Twitter.”

Steve almost smiled, pulling his mask from his pocket. “You gonna join me, too?”

Tony nodded, sending a text. “As soon as I get the Stark Foundation Mobile Voter’s registration headed that way.”

Steve turned, heading out the doors. 

Pepper watched him go, shaking her head. “Couldn’t convince him to get changed?”

Tony laughed. “I couldn’t even convince him to put on better shoes.” He tilted his head, “I guess we’re just lucky the first shoes he saw weren’t Clint’s Crocs.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is brought to you by the fact that I am so proud of young people rallying and dissenting and using social media platforms like TikTok, where people think they're just doing useless things, to band together and try to change the world. Yes, there are massive negatives to that platform, and many others, but I'm so proud of some of the things I've seen. 
> 
> And again, if you're in the US, Please VOTE.

Tony Stark may be tech savvy, but the truth is as much as he makes the news, he’s not very into current pop culture. Neither is his marketing team, no matter how much he pays them. Once video of Cap on the steps of the NYC GOP in his Gucci sandals goes viral, he knows there’s only one person to call to capitalize on the hype and keep the momentum going. 

Underoos. 

And Peter doesn’t disappoint. 

Peter gets them something called a Tik Tok. Steve refers to it as making videos for “that clock app.” Peter just smiles and calls him Mr. Rogers. 

Apparently there’s been a resurgence in the Rappin’ with Cap PSA’s that had come out right after the battle of New York, and Peter ran with it. Cap hadn’t been on board at first, but after he’d seen how far reaching they were, he figured the message was more important than anything. 

He put on the Red, White, and Blue and Peter filmed dozens of them at a time, posting one every day:

So you’re not registered to vote?

What is the first amendment?

What is fascism?

What is a dictatorship?

How does the electoral college work?

What does the Supreme Court Do?

How do you spot real news from sensationalism?

Peter posted them all over the internet, and they spread like wildfire. Autonomy. Free Speech. The right to clean water and food. The right to medical care. Social Justice. He talks about it all. People share, like, and follow. 

People get mad and ask how he can be a patriot while standing up for those things. 

He asks how you can be a patriot and not stand up for them. 

When politicians ask for his endorsement he asks where they fall on not just some, but all of the issues. He asks if they’re ready to stand up against Super PACs and lobbyists and if they’re willing to lose money and dinners and fancy parties to do whats right. 

One night, when they’re done filming and Steve takes off his helmet, Peter just looks at him. He absentmindedly hands Ned his phone, letting his “guy in the chair” transfer all the footage to be edited as he walks up to Steve. 

“Mr. Rogers? Sir?”

Steve laughs. “Peter, please. Call me Steve.”

“You should be president.” He says it with such conviction that it stops everyone in the room: Ned looks up from his computer and Tony pulls his glasses down. The silence stretches on for a long second. “You should.”

“No, that’s not-”

But Peter isn’t done. “No, it’s not cause you’re viral or an Avenger or even named after America. It’s because…” he licks his lips and takes a deep breath. “Cause you’ve seen it. You’ve lived it. You know it. And you don’t care about republican or democrat or white or black or rich or poor or any of that, you know? You just see people. And that’s what we need. We need someone who sees everyone as a person.” He sighs. Looking down at his feet. “It seems so stupid. But that’s what we need. And somehow, somehow not everyone is like that.” 

Steve slowly pulls off his gloves. “Peter, I don’t really know what to say to that.” He looks at the boy, seeing the fear and sadness in his eyes. “Thank you, for thinking so highly of me, though.”

“It’s all true. You’re a good person. Those seem to be in short supply right now.”

Ned stands. “I’d vote for you Mr. Rogers.” He nods vigorously. “When we were kids they kept trying to teach us all to be better- to accept each other and be kind- but those aren’t the people in power, the people we’re supposed to look up to. We can look up to you, sir.”

Tony sits up tall, pulling his glasses off completely. Both men are stunned by the boys confessions and for the first time start to truly feel the impact of all that’s been going on to their young lives. “That’s uh… you know I can’t say you’re wrong.”

“We should uh, we should go.” Peter stutters, rushing to pack up Ned. “We’ve got a lot of editing to do and there’s still school tomorrow.”

Steve still can’t get words out once the boys have left. 

“What do you think, cap? Write in vote?”

“Not this year,” he replies morosely. 

“So 2024 then?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Steve saves Peggy at a Protest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on this anon prompt: modern steggy where peggy does meet cap steve at a protest [yes its bc of ur ficlet and yes bc of cappeggysexuality's add on. and if you can't do this i understand. i just love ur style.]

She’s on the ground, writhing in pain before she even knows what’s happening. She’s not sure who started what first, but she’s damn pissed she forgot her sunglasses at home because the pepper spray burns like nothing else she’s ever known. 

She doesn’t regret stepping between the teen girl and the aggressive literal Nazi in military grade armor, not for a second, but damn she can’t even open her eyes and she’s on the ground and she can hear people scurrying around her. She curls into a ball, trying to cover her face without touching it. She can taste it through her mask, she can feel it burning in her nose. 

She can hear the girl she stepped in front of yelling that they need help. The girl’s reluctant to leave her but Peggy’s seen protests go bad before, she knows what will happen and she starts shouting at the girl to go even though each breath pulls the spray through her mask and burns her throat just a little. 

It feels like years that she’s thrashing and trying to force herself up off the pavement but it’s only seconds between when she tells the girl to go and when she feels strong arms pick her up like she’s a rag doll. “Don’t touch your face,” a familiar voice commands her. “We’ll get you cleaned up, ok?”

She can only nod, and though she knows she should feel a little fearful that someone she doesn’t know and can’t see has just picked her up, she’s happier that he’s getting her away from the yelling and the violence. 

“Just take her inside,” another familiar voice yells out to the man carrying her. “We’ve got a few of them in the lobby.”

She feels them push past a door and the second man is still talking. “Did you punch him?”

“Of course I punched him, he’s a Nazi.”

She can’t help it, she laughs at that. Even with the searing pain she can’t help but feel a little joy at that sentence. 

“Haha,” the second voice chides, “She might think it’s funny but one day one of these idiots is going to charge you with assault.”

He talks to her gently as he puts her down in a soft chair, asking before he takes the mask off her face and replacing it with a wet towel. “It’s milk,” he supplies. “I think they’re getting something for your eyes, though.”

She leans her head back, carefully moving the towel over her eyes and cheeks where they sting the worst, her eyes still tightly squeezed shut. “Thank you,” she rasps out. 

“What’s your name?”

“Peggy.” She flinches as the burning sends a sharp pain into her jaw. “You?”

She pretends not to hear his chuckle. She’s not sure why he’d be laughing at her. “Steve.” He’s quiet for a moment, serious. “That was really brave of you,” he says, reaching out and taking her hand. “I saw you, the whole time, your eyes on those guys. As soon as one of them got aggressive, you were there, trying to protect those kids.” 

“Those kids are the generation that is going to undo all the damage we’ve done,” she supplies, her free hand gently moving the towel over her skin. “They have to know people are going to help them, stand up for them.” She takes a deep breath. “Plus she was just a kid. What kind of grown man is so angry and insecure that he tries to pepper spray a kid?”

He doesn’t have time to answer. A woman with a soft but strong voice joins them and takes over, telling her to lean forward and handing her a bottle of eye wash solution and a small plastic tub. She waits until she can see Peggy forcing her eyes open, getting the solution in there despite the pain before she walks away, leaving her to Steve’s care once more. 

He holds the small basin for her as she struggles to get through both eyes. The stinging is still there, but now she can at least open them. Despite a bit of a blur, she can see.

When she looks up she finds she’s only somewhat surprised to see that the man who saved her, Steve, is in fact the man she went to see speak, the famed Captain America. “So that’s why you laughed when I asked your name.”

He nodded, handing her a clean towel. Her eyes were now watering on their own, streaks of tears steadily pouring down. “People don’t usually not know who I am.”

“Well, I couldn’t exactly see who picked me up.”

“Fair.” He smiles a little, holding up the spent eye wash bottle and the small basin. “I’m gonna get rid of this- I’ll be right back. How about some water?”

She nods, watching him leave. She takes the chance to look around, her sight coming back with each tear that filters out. There are a dozen or so people in the lobby of what she assumes in the Stark building, Tony Stark himself and several other Avengers who were present at the protest helping to triage them. There’s only one other with the bright red eyes like her, and he’s being tended to by someone that looks like a doctor. The rest look like scrapes and bruises. 

There’s a teen in the corner live streaming everything. She’s not sure why he’s allowed to broadcast from in here, but she isn’t about to ask questions. 

“Shouldn’t you get back out there?” Peggy asks when Steve comes back with her glass of water.

“It’s broken up,” he replies, sitting on the floor next to her chair. “We’ve got a couple of people out there, making sure things stay calm. If I go back out…” he just shrugs. 

She knows he’s right. Things are derisive enough, him going out once it’s calm might reignite flames. She chugs the water down, lets it cool her throat. She’s not quite sure what to say next. She wastes time taking smaller sips, waiting for him to make excuses and leave. Instead, he pulls off his helmet and runs a hand through his hair, looking for all the world like he’s trying to find a way to make conversation. 

“I want to ask what a girl like you is doing at a protest like this, but it sounds like a horrible pick up line,” he finally relents. 

“Well, is it?” she asks, avoiding his eyes. 

He laughs, his cheeks turning red. “Uh, would you like it to be?”

She knows she’s mess. Her face and eyes are still burning and she’s in combat boots and jeans that are ripped from her tumble to the ground and she has tears and snot dripping down her face and by god all she wants to do is say yes. She’s going to say yes, when Tony Stark interrupts them. 

“Flirt with the pretty lady later, Cap. We’ve got pissed off skinheads headed this way.”

He turns serious quickly, standing and setting his helmet back on as the woman who helped her before comes and scoots her back further into the lobby. 

He starts to leave then turns back, looking right at her. “Don’t leave, ok?”

She nods, watching as he marches back out into the street, the burning on her face suddenly surpassed by the feeling of butterflies in her stomach. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt:For the Dissent Speaks universe: what happens after Steve fights the skinheads and returns to see Peggy? - by Tumblr's WomenAreTheSequel

The lobby had cleared after the fight with the skinheads started heading farther and farther down the avenue. People either went back and joined the group that was marching behind the Avengers or hightailed it for home.

Before she knew it, Peggy was the only one left in the little lobby aside from the woman who was sitting behind the desk, frantically typing on a laptop. She was the same woman who’d helped her earlier and had coordinated the little triage area in the lobby. Peggy’s hands fidgeted with the washcloth in them, anxious. He said to stay, but she was starting to doubt if he meant it. She stood, shoving her hands in her pockets and letting her head fall, intent on sneaking out without the woman seeing.

“Please don’t leave,” she said, looking up. “If he asked you to stay, he means it.” Her eyes were earnest. “That is, if you want to stay. You’re not… You can leave, if you want. I’m just saying…”

Peggy looked at the woman, seeing her for the first time. She knew her now, though she was far more used to seeing her in business suits than T-shirts and jeans. Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries. Peggy licked her lips and shrugged. “I mean, I do want to…”

Pepper leaned back in her chair. “He’s not in the habit of picking women up at protests, if that’s what you’re thinking.” She smiled, eyes glazing over a bit as she thought, “In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him try to pick one up at all.” Her gaze cleared as she honed in on Peggy. “That’s why you should stay- if you want, that is. Steve doesn’t usually do things like that. Ask people to stay.”

Peggy nodded, the tiny spurt of information interesting and somehow reassuring. “You don’t think he’ll be tired?” She gestured with her chin towards the TV across from them, muted, that was showing live footage of the Avengers holding a line between the skinheads and protesters, the former screaming in their faces, hoping to incite violence.

“He’ll be exhausted.” Pepper flipped her laptop closed. “But like I said, he’s never asked anyone to stay before.” She stood, rounding the small desk and holding out her hand. “Pepper Potts.”

“Peggy Carter,” Peggy shook her hand, smiling a little.

Pepper tiled her head in recognition. “The activist?”

“Amongst other things,” Peggy mumbled, humbled the woman knew her name.

“Come on,” she looked up at the television again. “I know that look. When Tony has that look they’re in for the long haul. Let’s go upstairs, we can order some take-out while we wait for them.”

~*~

* * *

Pepper used the chopsticks to pull another clump of noodles straight from the box and onto her plate. “No, I’m not kidding. He can fight aliens in the blink of an eye, but if the world depended on Tony being able to do his own laundry, we’re doomed.”

Peggy laughed, sipping at the wine Pepper had poured them. “I’m sure some of that comes from how he was brought up.”

“Oh, absolutely. He’d be a mess without his AIs.” Pepper paused, chewing and swallowing. “Did you know he named his AI after his childhood butler?”

Peggy took another bite of spring roll, smiling closed mouthed as she chewed. “That’s adorable!”

“Right?” Pepper poked at her food, some of the joy going out of her face. “Also incredibly co-dependent, but that’s a story for another day.” She turned, smiling. “I only know the little about you I read in that Times article on the work your group is doing on the Equal Rights Act. Tell me about yourself.”

“Oh, I’m quite boring, really.” Peggy sipped at her wine again, taking her time. “Moved here not long after college, got my citizenship as soon as I could.” She shrugged, looking at her plate and pushing her lo mein around. “Started off in human rights, then focused on women’s rights, and here I am.”

“Why didn’t you stay in England? Do your work from there?” Pepper asked, pouring them both more wine.

Peggy gave a half smile to the woman. “That’s more complicated, I guess.” She took a deep breath and pulled her wine glass to her. “My brother died. Was killed, rather. After that, I took stock of my life and saw that I wasn’t as happy as I thought I was. Broke off an engagement, pissed off my mother and decided I needed a fresh start.”

Pepper put her chopsticks down, reaching out to put her hand on Peggy’s wrist. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“No,” Peggy smiled at her. “It’s ok.”

Pepper started to say more, but was interrupted by Jarvis’ voice in the air around them. “Miss Potts, Mr. Stark for you.”

Pepper looked up and away from Peggy, who took the moment to gather herself. “Tony?”

“ETA 5 minutes, Pep.”

“Finally!” She sat back and crossed her arms, talking to the air like he was next to her. “We stopped watching about an hour ago. How’d it end up?”

“How do you think it ended?”

Her smiled was half amused and half frustrated. “He punched Nazis?”

Tony’s voice was fully amused. “Of course he punched the Nazis!” After a beat he spoke again. “Who's ‘we’?”

Pepper smiled at Peggy, who could hear the whole exchange. “Peggy and I got some Chinese food while we were waiting for you.”

“Peggy? That hot little brunette with the swollen eyes?”

“See what I put up with?” Pepper murmured to her, not at all put out.

Peggy didn’t miss a beat. “The eyes are much less swollen now, thank you.” she said slightly louder than normal, hoping he’d hear her.

“Woo!” Tony whistled, “Is Cap gonna be happy you stuck around! But good luck, he’s in a mood. I made him stop punching Nazis. We’ll be there in less than two, Pep.”

A soft beep signals the call had disconnected. Peggy looked over at Pepper. “I can go if…”

Pepper smiled and shook her head. “Tony gives him a lot of shit about the whole ‘punching Nazis’ thing just to give him an excuse to get how he’s feeling out. He’s taken a lot of this personally.”

“I can’t blame him, I’d take it personally, too.”

“Please,” Pepper smiled softly, “stay.”

Peggy was nodding when chimes sounded. Pepper tipped her head and stood, signaling Peggy to follow her. They crossed the room to the hall and then out to the rail that overlooked the lobby. From there they saw the small rag-tag group’s return: Clint already pulling off his quiver and bow, Natasha slipping her gauntlets off and unzipping her jacket, Tony’s suit folding in on itself and Cap pulling off his helmet.

“The warriors return,” Pepper greeted them.

“Triumphant!” Tony declared as the last of his armor disappeared. “Well, mostly.” He stopped, smiling up.

“We’ve got enough dumplings and General Tso’s Chicken to feed an army.” Pepper announced. “And Spring Rolls, too, Nat.”

“Be there in five,” Nat replied, pulling her jacket off. “I need to go bleach my eyeballs. Some asshole showed me his dick and spit in my face.”

“What?” Peggy and Pepper both cried out, though Natasha seemed unbothered.

The redhead laughed. “Yeah, he’s not going to be having kids now.”

“We all got one punch in at least,” Clint replied, looking up. “Got any beer?”

Pepper smiled. “Bottle or tap?”

Clint pointed up at her as he started to walk away. “I’m gonna fight you for her, Tony.”

“Please don’t, I’m holding on to her by a thread,” Tony’s deprecating joke fell flat, but he smiled up at her. “She’s liable to leave me at any moment.”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” Pepper leaned over the rail, smiling.

“You are,” he smiled back, then his eyes grew bigger, his bravado taking over. “And look who else is still here!” He reached out, pulling Steve over who hadn’t looked up at the rail yet, but who had been slowly working his way out of his helmet, gauntlets, jacket, and shield, leaving him in his tank undershirt and tactical pants.

Steve looked up, his dull eyes and tired aura perking up as soon as he saw her. “You stayed,” he remarked in amazement.

She smiled back, unsure of what to say, but knowing she was in very, very deep trouble.


	6. The First Debate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Peggy watch the first 2020 Presidential debate

Steve popped his head into the main room where Tony, Natasha, and Clint were lounging. “Where are you guys watching the debate tonight?”

Tony shrugged. “I just assumed we’d all be in here, have Jarvis throw up a projection we could toss popcorn through.”

Natasha smiled, hoping up an iPad. “I’m already halfway through making a drinking game.”

“I’m not watching,” Clint mumbled, looking up from his book, “I can’t stand to listen to either of them talk. I’ll read the fact check tomorrow.”

Steve nodded. “Ok, well, I’ll be in the living room on 35, then.”

Tony looked affronted. “But I said there’d be popcorn.”

Steve tried to keep a straight face.“Peggy’s coming over to live tweet the debate.”

“Wow, Rogers,” Natasha looked up at him. “That’s the worst version of Netflix and Chill I’ve ever heard.”

“Is that what kids are calling it nowadays? ‘Watch the debate’?” Clint laughed.

“No,” Tony smirked, “I think it’s the ‘live tweeting’ part. Right? Tell me I’m right.”

Steve just turned around and walked out.

~*~

* * *

They used the pre-debate to get comfortable with one another, to amass drinks and snacks, and even a copy of Natasha’s debate drinking game. They were on either side of a large couch, facing the LED screen, nervously chatting.

Steve had to admit, even though he knew they’d both enjoy this, it was likely not a good first official date. Or Second. Or whatever the hell was going on between them. By the time the two candidates had taken the floor Steve was glad for the distraction as he had little left to say and was starting to feel awkward.

~*~

* * *

Peggy sat tall, hands on her forehead. “He didn’t just say that, did he?”

He nodded, fingers flying on his phone. “Yup, he did.”

~*~

* * *

  
_“Will you shut up, man?”_

Steve and Peggy look at the television, jaws on the floor. “I can’t believe he said that,” Steve said, flabbergasted.

Peggy smiled, proud. “I can’t believe he said that!”

~*~

* * *

Steve was scrolling through his feed as the moderator had to talk both candidates down yet again. “Oh, Peg, I like that infographic!”

She smiled and shrugged, slipping her legs under her and consequently moving just a little closer to him. “He’s made those claims about the economy again and again and it’s been fact checked to death. I’ve had that saved on my phone for months.”

~*~

* * *

_“You’re the worst president the country has ever had.”_

Steve sat up straight, both feet on the floor. “Oh my god.”

“Holy shit.” Peggy shifted next to him, elbows on her knees as she waited for the reaction on screen.

Steve turned to her, noticing she was much closer than he realized and he had no problem with it. “He just said it. Out loud.”

Peggy smiled back. “I mean, I think it every day, but…”

~*~

* * *

Steve leaned back against the couch, Peggy snuggled in the crook of his arm. He was typing with one hand while she was using both of hers to post. “Racial sensitivity training… how in the world…” Peggy muttered.

“Easy. It’s insensitive if it’s telling you you’ve been wrong your whole life and you don’t want to hear it. Like white supremacists. If you’re a white supremacist, racial sensitivity training is racist towards you. It’s messed up, but there it is.”

Peggy looked up at him, waiting until he found her eyes. “If I haven’t mentioned it lately, I very much enjoy how open you are about punching Nazis and White supremacists.”

He smiled blindingly at her, only to be drawn back to the television seconds later by the escalating bickering.

~*~

* * *

“Hmm,” Peggy squirmed from her spot tucked against his side, catching his attention as she faced him. “Speaking of mail in ballots- what are you doing election day?”

Steve shrugged, “Don’t know yet. Why?”

“A few friends and I are going to be poll workers. Do you want to join?” She smiled shyly, her question a little timid.

“I’d, uh, usually say yes,” he tried to split his attention between her and the drivel about ‘Forrest cities’ on the television, “but Tony seems to think we’ll be needed to help police polling stations and ballot drop off boxes.

She nodded. “Yeah, makes sense.”

He thought she sounded slightly dejected as she leaned back into the couch, inches away from him now, and scrolling through her feed on her phone.

Steve cleared his throat. “We could, maybe, get dinner, after the day’s over, though.” His eyebrows knit together, concerned that his mouth was moving faster than his brain. “A really late dinner. Dessert, maybe?”

She turned her head, smiling and licking her lips. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

~*~

* * *

_“Stand back and stand by.”_

Peggy kneeled on the couch, her phone forgotten in her hands. “Oh no.”

“Oh my god.” Steve let his hands run over his face.

“He didn’t.” Peggy looked at Steve. “I mean, he can’t have meant…”

Steve looked at her, as serious as he’d ever been. “He did.”

Peggy slumped back into the couch, wrapping her hands around her knees. “How… how did we get here?”

“I don’t know,” Steve mumbled, “But the President of the United States just told a White Supremacy group to be ready for his orders on live television.”

“We’re fucked.”

~*~

* * *

They both sat, feet on the floor, close enough to touch but not touching.

Steve was scrolling through his feed, quiet as the commentators took over as the candidates exited the stage.

Peggy tossed her phone on the table in front of them, the popcorn still there and Natasha’s drinking game abandoned long ago. “I mean, I know. I’m a woman. Old white men interrupt me every day, but that this… THIS… is the epitome? These two men are our best hope? God, that’s depressing.”

“They’re already using ‘stand down and stand by’ as a slogan.” Steve sighed, tossing his phone next to hers.

Peggy turned sideways and looked at him. “You’re going to have an awful lot of punching to do.”

“You only like me ‘cause I punch Nazis,” he muttered, turning with a half smile.

Peggy tried to laugh but it didn’t come out. “I do not.” She reached out, letting a finger run over the back of his hand. “It is an alluring trait, but certainly not the only one I enjoy.”

He let his hand flip over and laced his fingers with hers. “Good,” he whispered, looking towards the tv to hide his blush.

After a minute of listening to the commentators, she sighed heavily. “I feel so depressed, you know?”

He turned, looking at her. “Tell me.”

“Just- just all of it. It’s all so broken,” he squeezed her hand and she squeezed back. “I know I made a pot shot at both of them, but if he wins a second term… what does the world look like?” She took a deep breath. “And what does it look like if he doesn’t win? He’s spoiling for a fight, normalizing it now with his rhetoric. What happens when he says ‘fight’ instead of ‘stand by’?” Peggy curled into a small ball, wrapping her free arm around her legs. “You literally watched all this happen before. Tell me, what happens when bad men are in power?”

He couldn’t help feel his heart constrict at the way she looked at him, her chin resting on her knees and her eyes wide with fear and concern. Without thinking he slid over and wrapped her in his arms. “The good people fight.” He felt her wrap herself around him and could slowly feel some of the tension start to release from her body. “Good people fight for what’s right. That’s a universal truth. And more than anything this year we’ve seen good people stand up for what’s right.”

She nodded into him. After a moment she whispered, “Don’t let go.”

“I won’t.”

~*~

* * *

Tony looked up at the ceiling, ignoring the mess of popcorn on the floor in front of him. “Jarvis, how are Cap and his lady love?”

“Captain Rogers has asked I do not monitor or interrupt them tonight.”

“Fine,” he muttered, “Grabbing Natasha’s hand and hauling her up with him. “We’re just going to have to check on them the old fashioned way. Kick her out. It’s past curfew.”

Natasha raised her eyebrows. “You’re gonna kick her out?”

Tony laughed as they made their way around the trash and to the elevator. “God, no. I just want to be able to hold this over his head for years to come.”

Natasha, more than slightly drunk, wobbled as the elevator moved. “I think he really likes her, though.”

“Me too,” Tony agreed, stepping off the elevator and pulling Natasha with him. “But then I’ll at least have something to talk about in the best man speech.”

He held his finger dramatically to his lips as they approached the open concept living room. Natasha followed behind, rolling her eyes at Tony’s antics. They had to move nearly on top of the couch to see them: Steve and Peggy, sleeping, wrapped in one another’s arms.

Without so much as a word, Tony turned and left, Nat following suit. They were waiting for the elevator when he finally spoke. “Well, at least one good thing came out that debate.”

Steve’s voice drifted over from the couch. “Get out, Tony.”


	7. Through The Phone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically I wrote this because I need Steve to wrap me in a hug and tell me everything’s going to be OK after we have been told to watch out for cyberattacks at work and they’re boarding up buildings in NY and DC. you probably need him to tell you it’s ok, too. Just pretend you’re Peggy.

It was a hard call, where to go and where to be seen.

At some rallies they were a beacon of hope, they swelled pride and excitement.

At some they were magnets for a hate and derision.

Steve found the red, white, and blue suit was a magnet for hopeful young teens and disillusioned zealots. For bullets and tear gas. For slurs and curses.

He was tired.

It had been two long days of crossing the country with the former vice president, stepping out in uniform and other times not, sometimes in a suit and with an earpiece just like any other of the security.

Threats were coming in, threats to life and limb not only of the candidates, but for the country.

He sat in his bunk and pulled his cowl off, the sounds of the bus around him going away as the facetime ring tone filled his ears.

When the screen changed he expected her smiling face. What he saw was her foot as it walked away from the phone.

“Peg?”

“Just a mo,” her voice traveled through the line, dulled and far away, “taking my dinner out of the oven.”

He smiled, listening to the soft, domestic sounds as she opened the oven, the scratching of the tray against the racks, the light cursing as she put the hot try down and the slam of the oven door just after.

“You ok?” he tried not to laugh.

“Just fine, just fine.” He heard running water a thought she was likely lying. “Seems I have a hole in my oven mitt, but other than that I’m just fine.”

His brows knit. “You sure?”

The image jumbled as she picked up the phone and showed him her hand. A little pink by the knuckle, but otherwise not bad. “Just fine. A bit tingly, but just fine.” She turned the camera and smiled at him. “How are you?”

He let his head drop back to the pillow in the tiny bunk he barely fit in. “Exhausted.” He rolled to the side, propping the phone against the wall. “Thank god this is almost over.”

Peggy kept the phone with her as she pulled out a plate and carefully set her dinner on it. “Don’t count on it. They’re boarding up stores in New York and DC. Have you seen?”

He frowned again, trying to make the pillow comfortable. “No, but I did get the alert about the hackers.”

Steve watched as she settled herself at the small table in her apartment, the phone in front of her. He smiled as she took a mouthful of what looked to be some kind of Italian dish then promptly spit it out, fanning her tongue. “Hot?”

“Like fucking lava!” Peggy gulped down water, sputtering. “Christ, I cannot catch a break with this dinner.”

“What is it?” He asked, thinking about his own foil wrapped sandwich he’d wolfed down while he and the other agents took turns taking short dinner breaks at the last rally.

“Eggplant Rollatini.” She speared another bit with her fork, this time blowing on it and waving it in the air as she spoke. “We’re all pretty tense out here, to be honest.”

“Same,” he tilted the phone up a bit, leaning closer. “Things are getting unpredictable.”

She carefully took a bite, and smiled smugly as she chewed and swallowed. “Hard to stay positive,” she looked down at the plate, then at him, her eyes dark. “I’ve been watching pundits all day. I can’t tear my eyes off it.”

“You have to have faith, Peggy.”

“I know,” she sliced off another bit and put it in her mouth, chewing slowly. “It’s just all so negative. How people are talking to one another, how we’re engaging with one another. I wish…” She sighed, drinking to keep from saying what was on the tip of her tongue.

“You wish what?” He asked, lifting the camera and rolling on his stomach. He propped it up in front of him so he was looking at her upright instead of sideways as he leaned on his elbows.

She pushed the eggplant around on her plate. “It’s selfish.”

“So?” he rested his hands on his chin, smiling softly. “After all that’s going on, it’s ok to want something just for yourself. What do you wish?”

She put her fork down, folding her arms. She didn’t look at the camera, but down at her plate. “I wish this was over… the election, the virus, all of it. I wish you were here and we could just go out on a normal date. I wish I didn’t have to spend day after day fighting for people’s rights. I wish…” she sighed, picking up her fork again. “See?” She looked back at the phone, smiling. “Selfish.”

“I wish those same things, Peggy,” Steve replied softly. “I wish I was back there with you and that I didn’t have to worry about people shooting at me. I wish that all that fighting I did in the 40’s meant something. I wish that people would see value in each other.” He waited until she looked at him through the phone. “It’s coming. It’s coming cause people like us fight for it. Doesn’t mean we can’t wish we had it.”

She shrugged, shoving a forkful in her mouth so she didn’t have to talk.

“Besides, you don’t want to wish for a date with me. I’m disastrous at it.”

Her eyes went wide as she swallowed. “That I find hard to believe.”

“Really. I muck it up. Get nervous and pull the chair out too far so you fall on the floor, or call you by the wrong name.” He turned red. “My dating history isn’t exactly a fabulous resume.”

She licked her lips, smiling. “Ok, so maybe it’s better we’ve focused on non-traditional things.”

“Live tweeting and facetime I can handle.” He laughed lightly, but quickly turned serious. “But I would like to take you on a real date. And I will. As soon as this is all done. I promise.”

Her smile faded. “What if it’s never done?”

“It will be,” Steve replied, sure. “Maybe not on the third, maybe not even on the thirteenth, but these big, intense parts will be over soon.”

She put her fork down and laid her arms on one another, shoving her plate away. “Is it selfish to say I wish you were here?”

“Nope,” he replied, lifting the phone and rolling to his back as the bus bumped down a particularly rough stretch of road. “Because I feel the same way.”

Peggy smiled, sniffing. “Chin up and all that, right?”

“I’ll be home in a few days.” He smiled, “You’re the first one I want to see.”

“You’re the only one I want to see,” she replied, her smile coming back. There was an awkward pause where they both thought about saying those three little words that seemed so ridiculous so early in their relationship. Peggy broke the silence first. “Now go, you’re still in your uniform and you’re getting those sheets dirty.”

He smiled wide. “Yes, Ma’am. Goodnight, Peggy.”

“Goodnight, Steve.”

The screen went dark and he held the phone to his chest. His heart hammered. It was getting more intense, darker, and more anxiety inducing. But he was sure, sure that it was all going to work out.

It had to.


	8. Election Week

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nov 3-7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if I can describe or do justice to the stress and anxiety that most of us in the US felt this past week. One day I'll tell my niece about how I refreshed the AP map every 30 minutes because I was so worried. About how I watched red states turn blue. About how I had to put down my phone and put away my computer for my own mental health. how I couldn't sleep and I had nightmares about it. And how we won and for one day, the US celebrated. My mother, who is in her late 60s, said she's never seen anything like the country-wide celebration that we had yesterday in response to any election. I still can't believe it, and I still have this little feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop, but we did it. We took a historic step with more votes cast than any election and with many, many firsts. There is still a lot of work to do. But we started it. 
> 
> I don't know that I'll write anymore in this universe. I'm marking this as completed as this kind of feels done to me. Thank you all for all of your support in writing this, I'm glad so many of you found it as cathartic as I did.

**November 3**

Steve rolled over in his little bunk, happy to be on the road back to the East Coast. Tony was switching places with him in Delaware so he could get some much-needed rest. He smiled into the camera. “I think it’s only another few hours, but it’ll be the middle of the night when I get back.”

“Um hum,” Peggy muttered, her eyes flitting back and forth between the Facetime and something he couldn’t see past her phone.

“Maybe we can get breakfast tomorrow?” He could see the way the light flickered on her face, and immediately knew what she was doing: she was watching election coverage.

“Yeah,” she replied blankly, eyes glued away from him.

“How did working at the polls go this morning? Are you going back to help count?” He shifted on to his elbow, frowning.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Peggy’s answer didn’t match his question, her eyes a million miles away.

“Naked. We should go to breakfast naked.”

“What?” Her eyes finally flipped back to the screen, wide. “Huh?”

“Peg, are you watching the results?”

She frowned, focusing on the phone finally “I can’t help it. It’s hypnotizing.”

“You know there won’t be anything significant in tonight,” he replied, laying down and holding his phone above him. “You, yourself, have been saying this for weeks.”

“I know,” she frowned, and he watched the light darken on her face as she reached down and clicked her remote, turning off the television across from her. “I just… I can’t… I feel like I _have_ to watch it.”

He smiled gently at her. “I know. I’ve been looking, too.”

“Oh, so the pot’s calling the kettle black, then?” She licked her lips and pulled her knees up into frame, curing up in the corner of her couch.

“Absolutely.”

Her half smile was enough of an apology. “Sorry for being distracted. When are you getting home?”

“In a few hours,” he sighed. “Tony’s meeting me in Delaware and I’m taking a jet back.”

“Fancy,” she winked at him.

He chuckled. “I’m pretty sure I’ll sleep through it.”

“We should do breakfast tomorrow, once you’re awake,” Peggy supplied, smiling.

Steve just laughed. “Sure. I’ll call you when I wake up.”

~*~

* * *

**November 4**

After breakfast they’d gone back to her apartment. She looked over from the breakfast nook, and couldn’t help but think Steve seemed ridiculously big on her small love seat. She’d never needed much room before, being just herself and the occasional friend, but he looked positively cramped in her tiny studio.

“Coffee’s almost ready. Anything new?” She leaned against the counter, smiling at him.

“Not since we last checked.” He put his phone on the small coffee table and leaned over the back of the couch. “I think we’re in for a long day.”

Peggy pulled two mugs out. “Well, there’s a pizza place down the street and a sandwich shop around the corner that will deliver, so we can hunker down for a while.”

~*~

* * *

“Pizza will be here in a half hour,” Peggy slipped back on the couch next to Steve, tucking her feet under her. “Did I miss anything?”

“Nope. Still just lawsuits in Michigan and Wisconsin,” Steve picked up the remote and flipped from CNN to MSNBC. “Nothing new.”

~*~

* * *

Peggy spilled her water all over the table, her phone in her hand. “He has Michigan and Wisconsin.”

Steve, trying to contain the mess as the water soaked into the only half empty pizza box, stopped what he was doing. “Wait, so that’s how many?”

“264.” She looked up at him and smiled. “Come on, Nevada.”

~*~

* * *

Peggy still felt thick with sleep when Steve nudged her. “Peggy?”

“Humm,” she snuggled deeper against his chest, the only light in the dark room from the flickering TV.

“Peggy, wake up. You should get to bed.”

She didn’t open her eyes. “Comfortable.”

“Come on.”

She felt him pull away then his arms wound around her and lifted her from the couch. Her body enjoyed the familiar feel of being in his arms, and especially enjoyed it this time without the burning of pepper spray in her eyes. He set her gently down on her small bed, but she didn’t unlock her arms from his neck.

“Peg…”

“Just sleep,” she murmured, eyes still closed as her hand clutched at his shirt. “Stay and sleep.”

She smiled as he wrapped himself around her in the small bed. “That’s a good offer.”

~*~

* * *

The flickering light woke him up. Blinking, it was easy to see her on the couch in the small apartment, tv muted and captions flittering across the screen as Peggy kept her eyes glued to CNBC, the crawl on the bottom of the TV showing no changes in the numbers.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He enjoyed her little jump at being caught, and the redness in her cheeks when she turned back to look at him.

“Had to use to loo,” she folded her hands on the back of the couch and rested her chin on them. “Then I decided to check the counts.”

He leaned up on his elbow, running a hand through his hair. “How long ago was that?”

She looked anywhere but him. “’Bout an hour ago.” He didn’t say anything, just waited. “I know, I know!” She stood, pressing the button on the remote and waited as her eyes adjusted when the tv flickering off plunged the small room in darkness. Slowly she picked her way through the dark room until she slipped back in the bed and curled into his side.

He pulled her close to him, though he couldn’t have done much else in the small bed. “So?”

“So what?”

He tucked her head under his chin. “Was there an update?”

“Not at all.”

~*~

* * *

**November 5**

Peggy sipped her coffee, staring at the screen. She tried switching back to the blog she was supposed to be writing, but she found it damn near impossible. Steve had left early after a text from Tony had woken them both.

She kept switching back and forth between windows, completely unable to concentrate. The text came in and she checked it immediately, looking for any excuse to concentrate on _something_ other than the voter numbers coming in.

_Have you gotten any work done?_

She smiled at his text. They’d known one another only for a short time, but somehow he already knew her better than some of her long term boyfriends had. She always used to scoff at people who talked about “love at first sight” or “just knowing” shortly after meeting someone, but she thought maybe this is what it felt like.

_Absolutely none. I’ll be fired by next week if I can’t get my head straight._

She put the phone down, trying not to wait for the little bubble with the three dots to signal he was replying. She stared at her screen again, switching from the AP election map to her blank word document.

_Come over for dinner. We can get nothing done together._

~*~

* * *

“So did you manage anything?” Steve asked, setting the plate in front of her in the small kitchen that was familiar from when she’d eaten with Pepper. Both of their phones were sitting in front of them, turned face down to try to keep them from checking them every few seconds.

“About a page,” Peggy sighed, picking her fork up and poking at the fish.

Steve watched her for a moment as she poked at it, not quite cutting a piece before just pushing it around. “If it makes you feel any better I absolutely did not cook that.”

Peggy looked up, eyes glazed over. “What? Oh! No…” She put her fork down, rubbing her face. “I’m sure it’s lovely.”

“Then?” Steve asked, pushing his own plate away and turning towards her.

“I’ve just been watching it all day and it’s turned my stomach, you know?” She took a deep breath. “I didn’t eat lunch, just had a muffin I left on my desk until it was dry and hard and I threw it away. Made myself crazy, really, looking at those numbers all day.”

Steve reached out, taking her hand in his. His brow furrowed. “You’re shaking a little.”

Peggy laughed morosely. “That would be the veritable gallon of coffee I drank today.” She shook her head, looking away. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m very good company today.”

Steve gave her hand a little shake to get her to look at him. “I’m not either.” He caught her eyes with his own. “Try to eat?”

~*~

* * *

It turned out that peanuts and popcorn and hot chocolate were better choices than a fancy dinner. Peggy managed handfuls while they talked over CNN and Fox News Commentators, intermittently sharing tweets and memes from the cozy living space on the 35th floor.

“They filed another suit in PA. And you should stay tonight,” Steve said softly from his side of the couch, his eyes on his phone in his hand.

Peggy looked up at his profile, his free hand moving slowly over her shins, her feet in his lap. “Yeah?”

“Only fair,” he replied, finally looking up with a little smile.

She licked her lips, smiling. “Only fair.”

~*~

* * *

**November 6**

Peggy was sitting at her desk, staring at the bottom of her empty coffee cup when her phone buzzed.

_How’s your morning going?_

Peggy put her coffee mug down and stared at her hand as she picked up her phone. She wasn’t getting the caffeine shakes yet. She could afford another cup.

_Fucking Nevada_ , she texted back before tossing her phone down and walking away to fill up her mug.

She smiled at the text on her screen when she came back.

_That good, huh?_

_~*~_

* * *

_I am literally going to get myself fired if I can’t get this blog post done._ Peggy sent the text and then rubbed her face. She needed water, not coffee, and to be focusing on the gerrymandering of districts, not the fact that Steve’s bed was not only twice the size of hers but twice as comfortable.

_Then you should probably stop texting me._

She picked the phone up again, squeezing her eyes shut at the memory of waking up spooned against him, the feel of him wrapped around her in that cloud of softness like waking in heaven. _Maybe you should stop replying. You’re enabling me. Don’t you have a job, too?_

Peggy turned her phone face down next to her and pulled up the draft of her blog post. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t good, not nearly up to her normal standards. She started copying and pasting, moving things around and editing when her phone vibrated next to her.

_Told you, Tony gave me a few days off. But I guess you could say I’m always on call. How about this? You’re going to get radio silence from me until you submit your draft. How’s that for motivation?_

Peggy stared at the small screen, teeth on her lip. _Sounds fair._

The phone buzzed while still in her hand. _Good. Good luck. I’m sure I’ll hear from you soon._

Peggy smiled at the phone and slid it in the drawer next to her. She could do this.

~*~

* * *

Two hours later she pulled out the phone and texted, fingers flying.

_Fucking Nevada. I can’t focus._

Peggy waited, wondering if he’d text back or keep his word. He didn’t make her wait long.

_What if I throw in drinks?_

Peggy laughed. _Make it Guacamole and a Margarita._

Steve sent a little drink emoji. _Done._

She literally laughed out loud at the idea of a superhero sending emojis _. I’m getting back to work._

She paused, then typed another two words. _Fucking Nevada._

~*~

* * *

In the end, she wasn’t completely happy with what she turned in, but she made it by her deadline, despite the fact that she’d still spent half her time checking the AP map and CNN on her phone.

When she texted him, it wasn’t what she’d been thinking about saying all day, but rather what she knew she needed.

_Article is in. Not to be a gigantic prat, but I need sleep. I’m going to go home, shut my phone off, and try to get some sleep. Thank you for the motivation today._

She was on the train, almost home, when her phone buzzed in her pocket.

_Please get some sleep. I’m sure you need it. I do too. I haven’t been able to tear myself away from the coverage all day, either. You should have a surprise waiting for you at your door._

Ten minutes later she spotted the brown paper bag hung from her apartment door. She lifted it off and brought it in, smiling. Burrito, guacamole, chips, and a margarita in a to-go cup. She pulled her phone out.

_Thank you for the lovely surprise._

She waited while he typed, taking the top off the margarita and drinking a deep gulp.

_You’re welcome. Try to eat something, ok? Coffee isn’t one of the main food groups. I should know. I did a whole Rappin’ with Cap educational video on it._

Peggy laughed at his text, putting the foil wrapped burrito in her refrigerator and taking the chips, guacamole, and margarita over to the small table in front of her couch. _I’m pretty sure margaritas aren’t on that food pyramid, either._

The phone rang in her hands as soon as she sent the text. “No,” Steve’s voice rang out loud though the line, “but avocados are.”

~*~

* * *

**November 7**

Peggy liked the feeling of holding his hand as they strolled through Central Park. It was calming, on the warm day, to be outside. To be away from her computer screen where she was constantly refreshing results and counting the differences. To have her phone firmly in her pocket and a hand in hers to distract her.

Steve, decked out in a hat, sunglasses, and an oversized zip up hoodie to try to hide his frame, managed to fit in quite well. When he had his mask on he was nearly unrecognizable.

The quiet was nice. While there was an undercurrent of anxiety flowing through them, and through everyone they passed, it seemed they were all doing their best to make the best of it. They’d walked past the zoo, and the gardens.

Peggy felt like she could almost… almost breathe. There were so many questions weighing on her mind, and she could almost forget them.

“We should get lunch soon,” she thought out loud, swinging their hands.

Steve turned to her, looking more like the invisible man all covered up than a superhero. “I could do lunch. What were you thinking?”

“Well—"

A yell erupted from across the grass, a woman jumping up and down. Steve tensed, pulling off his sunglasses, ready to move, when they both heard it.

“They called Pennsylvania!”

“He won!”

“We did it!”

Peggy and Steve both pulled their phones out, rushing to confirm what they already felt based on the building excitement around them. His eyes met hers, wide and filled with happiness.

Without another thought he lifted her from her feet, spinning her in a circle, celebrating like those around them. It was joy, elation, and relief. Peggy pulled her mask off and slid Steve’s down to his chin, kissing him soundly, her forehead pushing his hat back off his head.

He slowly lowered her to the ground, his lips still on hers as the world turned loud around them. It seemed like people were coming out of nowhere, yelling and dancing with joy.

Peggy pulled her lips back, holding Steve to her by his cheeks. “I’ve never been so happy for something so…”

“We deserve it. There’s been so little to look forward to this year…”

Steve lifted her in his arms again and spun around, letting out a loud whoop of excitement.

Steve put her down, kissing her quickly before he pulled his mask over his nose. “Come on.”

“Where?” Peggy pulled her mask up as well, lacing her fingers through his.

“Avengers Tower? Trump Tower? Times Square?” Steve was already pulling her along, following a wave of excited people. “Anywhere!”

Peggy let herself be happy as she followed him wrapping her free hand around his bicep to keep from getting lost in the crowd. She let her heart pound in her chest and her arms tighten and her mind get lost in the elation and the feel of the man next to her. There would be work to do. Her inbox would be full come Monday morning and there would be plenty to do. President-Elect was all well and good, but it didn’t automatically mean change, and wasn’t even close to the systemic change the both of them were working so hard towards. But it was a step. A big one.

And any win after all that had happened this year felt like something to be celebrated.


	9. Thanksgiving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Tumblr Anon Prompted a Dissents Speak Thanksgiving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, once again, not what anyone wanted? Also, while I first published this in September, I feel like they potentially met back in the summer? The timeline of this is pretty vague, especially since all the social media stuff with Peter probably runs over several months.
> 
> Happy Thanksgiving. I’m so THANKFUL for you all.

Steve held the phone to his ear while he leaned against the cold brick, waiting as it rang.

The line clicked live, but all he could hear was muffled cursing. “Shitballs, just hang- Fuck!”

“Peg?” He asked, standing up straighter despite the fact that he was across the country and could do nothing to help her.

Her voice was muffled when it came through, “I dropped the phone, and the groceries, and my keys…” She sighed, the sound translating as a jumble of noise as she picked everything up and the jingle of keys as she opened her door.

“You can call me back later, you know,” he tried to keep from laughing.

“No, no,” her voice, tired and resigned, came through the phone stronger now. He figured she must have been inside, with her bags on her small counter. He could almost hear her flop on the couch through the phone. “I’m good now. Just tried to juggle too much at once.”

“Sounds familiar.”

“Says the pot,” she laughed. “Not metaphorically, just, literally, too many things. I stopped at the store on the way home to get dinner for tomorrow.”

Steve started pacing, “You know what I’m going to say about that.”

“I do,” He heard her stand and shuffle, then what he thought might be the sounds of her putting away groceries, “And you know what I’m going to say.”

“I’ll be home tomorrow morning, you can come over.” Steve kicked at the gravel, feeling like he’d had this conversation more often than not with her over the last few days.

“And you know that if one reporter gets a hold a photo of you having Thanksgiving dinner with anyone outside of your household, like you’ve been talking about for weeks on every media outlet that will have you, you’re toast.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “You’re in my bubble.” He knew it sounded lame.

“You know how silly that sounds right now, right? Half the country is in your bubble.”

Steve turned, waving to Clint who had come to get him from the alley way. They were traveling the northwest, dropping off more PPE and talking to anyone that would listen about being cautious for Thanksgiving. “Point taken.”

“Look, I’d love to see you. And you know and I know that we’re both in one another’s bubbles and that one meal, compared to all the snogging we’ve been doing, isn’t going to make a bit of difference.”

Steve laughed to himself, slowly moving out of the alley. “Call it snogging again.”

“Prat,” she teased back. “I’ll see you Friday, ok? There won’t be reporters out on Friday.”

~*~

* * *

Peggy reached out of her bed, smacking around the side table for the phone that was so rudely, but necessarily, waking her up. Without turning on her lights she stood, yawned, and slumped over to her coffee maker, going through the well-memorized motions as she yawned to set her coffee brewing. 

Once she had a steaming cup in her hand she moved over to her small couch, eyes still bleary with sleep and fumbled the remote, clicking through to find the right channel.

She sipped and waited through weather after sports after headlines until they finally, finally set cameras over to Herald Square, where Al Roker was waiting, sitting next to Steve as they tried to stay out of the steady rain.

“Our next guest needs no introduction, and quite frankly I’d say he’s just about as famous as the man with the bag. Please welcome Captain America, Steve Rogers.”

Steve blushed slightly, in his suit without the cowl. “Well thank you, but I think Santa’s just a little more important this time of year.”

Peggy smiled to herself as the two bantered. Steve hated, _hated_ , these talk shows with a passion. It gave him anxiety for days and he always second guessed himself about what he said, knowing it would be memorialized forever on the internet. She sipped her coffee, watching as they talked about his stint protecting the president elect, his part in the election and how he was helping re-distribute PPE to some of the hardest hit areas in America.

“So what are your Thanksgiving plans, Captain?” Al asked joyfully, a large smile on his face.

“Well, I’ll be following the CDC recommendations and staying home. And watching the parade, of course.” Steve smiled, though she noticed it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “As I’m sure you know, currently most of the Avengers are living in Stark Tower, and we’ll be having Thanksgiving dinner together.”

“A wise choice, indeed. Things are looking quite different this year.” Al looked back at Herald Square, decorated but empty except for a few distant groups of people there to see the decorations and the small camera crew ready to film the downsized parade of balloons and floats.

Steve looked over the rainy square, and Peggy could see how he was fighting to keep a smile on his face. “Yes, Al, yes they are.”

“You know, I don’t usually like to get into gossip,” Peggy slowly let her cup fall to her lap as she leaned forward, Steve’s shoulders stiffening, “but there’s a rumor that you have a girlfriend? A Mrs. America?”

Steve laughed, more out of discomfort than anything. “Well, I don’t think we’re quite there yet.”

“But there is a special someone for you this year?” Al leaned back, smiling.

“Let’s just say I think I got my present from Santa very early this year.”

~*~

* * *

Peggy smiled when the image of Steve, relaxed in bed, popped up on her screen. “Caught you in bed, have I?”

He smiled at her over the Facetime connection, “Felt like being a little lazy today.”

“After all that hard work at the parade this morning?” She asked, smirking.

He hid his face in his hands, peaking out at her. “You saw that?”

She laughed, leaning back. “Of course I saw that. You think I miss any interviews you do if I can help it?”

Steve winced, turning his face half away. “And…”

Peggy bit her lip, smiling. “And I think Santa’s been very good to both of us this year.” She quickly changed the subject, leaning on her counter. “What are you doing while you’re being lazy?”

He flipped the camera to let her see the television across from him, the black and white movie paused, “March of the Wooden Soldiers. I can’t believe people still watch this. I loved this when I was a kid.”

Peggy smiled, flipping her own camera once she saw his face, sharing her own television where the same movie was playing on, colorized and muted. “Traditions are traditions.”

He turned the computer back, fluffing the pillows behind him. “What about you? I mean, is this your tradition?”

Peggy flipped her camera back and leaned on her counter to look at him. “Not really. I’ve gone to a few big meals with co-workers since I’ve lived here. I’ve heard the discourse around the history of it. I like the idea that no matter what, you spend a day remembering to be thankful for the things and people in your life.”

“I’m thankful for you,” Steve replied without missing a beat, his mouth a thin line of seriousness. “I am so thankful I met you, Peggy.”

Peggy swallowed, her heart pounding in her chest. “I’m thankful for you, too, Steve.” She cleared her throat, smiling as she started moving around her kitchen, trying to move past the emotional lump in her that threatened every time they started to talk about how serious they actually were as a couple. “So, who is cooking? I hope it’s not Tony.”

Steve laughed at her, shaking his head. “God, no. He had it catered. We’re meeting for a big dinner in an hour or so. You?”

Peggy turned away, pulling a small blue box out of her freezer. “Hungry Man Turkey and Stuffing dinner.” She shrugged, tossing it on the counter. “It was all they had left, not a single butterball was left in sight at the store yesterday, not that my stove could handle it, anyway.”

Steve’s brows knit together, “Peggy…”

She stood tall, “You know what I’m going to say. We had this conversation yesterday.”

“And you know what I’m going to say.” He sighed, sitting up and pushing his laptop to the bed. “I can’t let you sit at home alone and eat _that._ ”

“What?” She asked, feigning innocence. “I’m sure it’s much better than the Lean Cuisines I usually eat.”

He frowned, standing. “You know what I mean.”

She crossed her arms. “And you know how I feel. It’s not very important to me where I am today at all. Or what I eat.”

“But it’s important to me.”

Peggy could feel the lump in her throat that had been a declaration of love ready to pour from her lips turn cold. They hadn’t really fought before, but she could feel it on the horizon. She guessed, if she understood it correctly, fighting on Thanksgiving was as much a time-honored tradition as the turkey. She took a shaky breath. “What’s important to me is that you don’t manage to undo all the good you’ve done so far by getting caught with me.”

“Al’s let the cat out of the bag, Peg. We’re not even sneaking around.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Look, I get it, I do, but…”

“But what?”

He sighed. “I’ll call you in a bit, ok?” His video blinked out of existence and she stared at the screen, that lump in her throat growing larger and larger by the second.

~*~

* * *

Peggy pulled the oven open, poking her fork in. The mashed potatoes were warm, she could tell by the way the smushed under her fork, but the gravy hadn’t melted nearly enough and still looked at bit… solid. She couldn’t even pierce the turkey slices. She carefully put her hand in the oven and sighed. There was no way it had heated up properly, even if she had turned it up to 350 almost an hour ago.

She sighed, closing it and tossing her oven mitt to the side.

She was rooting through her small recycling bucket for the box to see what the microwave directions were when a knock sounded at her door.

She tossed the blue box on the counter and wiped her hand on a towel as she rounded the counter, peaking out the peephole before unlocking the door.

She didn’t know if she should be happy or upset. She couldn’t contain her smile, but rushed him in the apartment, anyway. “What if someone saw you?”

“Let them.” He sighed, putting the big brown bag he was carrying on her counter and shedding his hat, glasses, oversized jacket and mask. He was fairly unrecognizable in that get up, the mask saw to that. “I’m allowed to see my girlfriend on Thanksgiving.”

She swallowed, twisting her hands in front of her. “Is that what I am?”

He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Any reason you wouldn’t want to be?”

“What if someone saw you going out to see your girlfriend?” She asked, sliding closer to him, the anger falling out of her voice.

Steve let his hands come out of his pockets and slid them up and down her arms. “I’d have to inform them that she was part of my bubble, and that even if I didn’t see her today, I’d see her tomorrow, or Saturday, or the day after that.”

Peggy let him pull her closer and into his embrace. “I should be cross with you, you didn’t listen to a word I said.”

He leaned down, lips close to hers, “Be mad. I wasn’t leaving you alone today.” He kissed her softly. “And I didn’t want to be without you, either.”

Peggy let her arms wind around his neck, enjoying the feel of his lips on hers. “I didn’t get a second Hungry Man dinner, so I hope you don’t mind sharing,” she whispered, pulling away and smiling.

Steve tipped his head to the brown bag he’d bought, a small half smile on his face. “I raided the feast before they put it out. I got enough for both of us, but if you want to have that frozen dinner…”

“God, no,” Peggy laughed, letting her head fall to his chest. “I think my oven’s finally died, and all I’ve got is a congealed mess in there.”

“Good thing I came over,” Steve squeezed her tight, rocking them a bit as he laughed at the circumstances.

“Very good thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: 1. The Macy’s Parade did take place in NYC this morning, albeit with many pre-recorded sections and very scaled down. And it did rain. And Al Roker was there. 2. March of the Wooden Soldiers came out in 1934, still airs in America every year, and is a WILD ride of a movie if you’ve never seen it. My family quotes it throughout the year, and I always look forward to it. 3. I hope you all had a wonderful, socially distant Thanksgiving this year, and that everyone stays healthy.


	10. Epilogue of sorts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little nothing about how the world finds out about Steve and Peggy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all. Yes, I said this story was done, and I meant it. But I got a prompt on Tumblr and this little scenario popped into my head. I thought it unfair to only post to Tumblr, so here it is. Unfortunately, it's not really written or formatted like the rest of the fic and I don't really have the inspiration or desire to make this work in that way, so consider this a DVD extra or something similar. 
> 
> womenarethesequel asked: Okay but now after that (incredible!!!) Thanksgiving fic for Dissent Speaks I'm really curious as to how/when the public finds out about Steve and Peggy's relationship
> 
> Since I don’t think I’m going to write more in that universe (it seems to be contained, and once Jan 20th hits, I kinda want to put all those emotions behind me, you know?) I’ll give you the DVD extra here. 

Peggy and Steve manage to keep things under wraps for a while, until Peter accidentally starts a livestream instead of uploading the latest Rappin’ with Cap. While Peter talks with Tony about how they’re going to focus their messages for the holidays, the phone, from Peter’s back pocket, catches Steve in full costume and Peggy in jeans and a sweater, arms wrapped around each other in the corner. The moment of her pulling off his helmet, gently and lovingly, goes viral. 

But the kissing, oh the kissing. The kissing is what takes the internet by storm and winds up on morning talk shows because good lord is it not by the book or simple or even gentle. The audio doesn’t pick up what Peggy whispers in his ear right before he takes her mouth, but people speculate. The Memes, oh the memes are born of what she might have said. It’s the way he takes her mouth, confidently and passionately, the way he tangles his hand in her hair and the way she takes two fist fulls of of his uniform while he grabs her ass with his other hand that gets people thinking that she must have said something absolutely filthy. Fans all over the internet make videos proclaiming they wish they were Peggy to the part of the video where Steve lifts her from the ground with almost no effort at all, her legs wrapping around his waist. 

But the best part of the video is the last part. The part where Tony finally notices them and yells “Rogers! Go get yourself a room. There are children in here!” and they stop kissing, faces turning to the camera, surprised and embarrassed, before Peter’s voice squeaks out, “Mr. Stark, I am not a-” followed by a comical gasp and the video cutting to Tony Stark’s thigh as Peter turns around to see Cap and Peggy. 

Peter immediately turns back around, mumbling he’s sorry as the video shows Steve placing Peggy down gently, the two of them flustered and rearranging their clothes.The video gets wild then as Stark pulls the phone from Peter’s back pocket, his hand covering the camera to blackness before his voice is heard booming. “Well, you’re going to be a lot sorrier in a minute, young man. How do I turn this thing off?”

The video, no matter how many times Tony tries to erase it, continues to pop up all over social media, and Steve and Peggy are forced to revel their relationship. 

Al Roker brings it up at least once a week on Good Morning America. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> January 6th, 2021

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t believe I have to write this. I tried to put some humor in there, but… yeah. Take care of yourselves. There will be good things coming. 
> 
> This is based off a video that I saw often while watching coverage last night: two white, middle aged men in a hallway of the capitol building, one waving a flag with an image of Trump dressed as Captain America on it.
> 
> #25for45

Peggy huddled close to Pepper on the couch, watching the newsfeed as it skimmed over the group of rioters. “You should know,” Pepper started, “that there are protocols.”

“Protocols?” Peggy looked up at her, pulling the blanket around her tighter, even though the afternoon in the tower was warm. “Steve mentioned…”

“One in particular,” Pepper continued, reaching for her mug of tea. “It’s called the Timber Protocol.” Pepper smiled at Peggy’s confused look. “It’s from the Kesha song— ‘it’s going down’,” she attempted to sing. She cleared her throat and figured it was worth it if she managed to get Peggy to smile. “It’s for if the shit ever really hits the fan.”

“What happens?” Peggy asked quietly, the smile fading.

Pepper shrugged, her eyes draw back to the TV where she could See Iron Man and Black Widow guarding a barricade. They were decoys, she knew because she and Peggy had been in on the panning as the Avengers flew down to DC in the quinjet. Steve, Thor, and Clint were helping evacuate the senators inside as Tony kept the crowd focused on him. “If Tony or I give the order, or if several pre-set thresholds are met, the tower goes into lock down. We then have to get to an elevator as soon as we can, scan your thumb, and it’ll take you down to a panic room.”

Peggy’s voice wavered. “Panic room?”

“It’s only for if—”

Peggy shushed her, reaching out and turning up the sound on the television. She looked intently as the news program went to a split screen, one side the female commentator, the other side a fairly sharp cell phone video.

_“What you’re looking at now is a live feed from an AP reporter who is trapped in a conference room at the capitol.”_

Peggy gasped, her hand flying over her mouth. Though the image was shaky and taken through a window, it was clear: Steve, in his full red, white, and blue suit, stood across from two men in the hallway of the capitol building. One was holding an American flag, the other holding a flag depicting 45 in Steve’s suit, fake muscles and airbrushing evident.

Steve squared his shoulders as the shaky video took over the whole screen. “Gentlemen.” His voice was tinny through the layer of glass and over the shaky connection.

~*~

* * *

“What are you gonna do?” the first man challenged him, using his flag like a spear, pushing towards him, attempting to provoke him.

Steve didn’t budge, didn’t wince, as the man poked toward him but didn’t move forward. “What are _you_ going to do?” Steve asked, low and quiet. With minimal effort he swung his shield, still attached to his arm, and knocked the flag from the man’s hand. Without taking his eyes from the stunned man, he stepped over and lifted the flag from the floor, gently leaning it in a corner. “That’s not a weapon.”

“It should be freedom,” the second man said, his flag still firmly on his shoulder, the image of Trump taunting Steve as it billowed. “But they’re lying to us. They’re stealing this and we’re not going to let them do it! This is a revolution!”

Steve slowly walked forward, both men flinching back. He hid his smile well. “The only person lying to you is that man, a man who has no regard for the laws of this land.” Steve pointed to the flag, then snatched it from the man’s hands. Without a word he ripped it in half in his hands and tossed it to the side. “He symbolizes hate and oppression, lies and tyranny, everything this suit and I fight against.”

“You- you can’t do that…” the man stuttered at him.

“You are a part of a riot that’s broken into the capitol building and I can’t touch your flag?” Steve stepped into the man’s personal space. “You turn around, you leave right now, or I’m going to make you leave.”

The man he wasn’t looking at, the man who had held the American flag, swung with all his body weight behind them. With a swift movement of his shield, Steve blocked the punch, the man’s hand reverberating off the shield as he yelped in pain. Steve turned swiftly, swinging his leg out and taking the man down.

The other man launched at him, and Steve deftly pushed him back, the wind knocked out of him as he landed on the ground. He tried to push up, but Steve stopped him with a boot in his chest, the sound of footsteps coming from behind as two uniformed officers joined him, pulling out zip ties to detain the men.

Steve stepped back, letting the officers take over. He sighed, turning his head and listening as he heard more insistent footsteps coming towards him. A man, holding a podium high and proud, rounded the corner at the end of the hall, not slowing and barely paying attention as Steve’s shoulders slumped in frustration. 

“Oh, come on,” Steve mumbled as he put his free arm out. He grabbed the shirt of the man trying to move past him carrying a podium. He held the man in front of him as he put the shield on his back. “That’s not yours.”

Steve held out his hand but the man wouldn’t relinquish the podium. Instead, he struggled, revealing a swastika tattoo on his neck. Steve’s lips pressed together tight as he let the man struggle for a moment. Once the man started to become aggressive Steve relented and punched him.

He pulled the punch, enough that the man was stunned and in pain, but not seriously hurt. The man dropped the podium and Steve handed him off to one of the officers who had come up behind him.

“Captain, they’re still trying to clear the senate chamber.” The officer said.

“Where?” Steve asked, serious.

“Down the hall to the right.”

Steve nodded, turning away. He raised a hand, acknowledging the man’s thank you as he pulled the shield off his back. He picked up speed, heading toward the melee.

He stopped, seeing the crush of bodies pushing against the Senate chamber door. He sighed under his breath before moving forward. “Fuckin’ Nazis.”


End file.
